Blake held up one hand to signal for quiet. ‘Jenna’s trying to match the speed and velocity of the Federation ship, but it’s manoeuvring for a slingshot attempt around the planet. Teleporting from the Liberator onto another vessel in flight is difficult enough as it is – but this will be particularly tricky, Cally. Do you think you can manage it?’
Cally met his gaze. ‘Let’s see.’
SEVEN
The trooper’s boots clanked along the gangway of Pod Four and stopped by Zake. ‘What do you want now, you miserable little cur?’
Zake looked up into the guard’s eyes. ‘I’ve got cramp… sir.’
The trooper stared down at the youth and sneered. ‘Cramp? Oh dear. Quick, Trooper Dort, notify the captain. Full reverse. Head back to Earth at top speed – Zake’s got cramp.’
Zake closed his eyes. ‘If I could just move around a bit…’
‘Cut all engines!’ the guard cried. ‘Give young Zake a chance to take a turn or two around the deck.’
There was a pause and then the guard broke it by laughing at his own joke. ‘You can stay right where you are, Zake. I don’t care if you’ve got cramp. I don’t care if your leg’s falling off. You stay in that pen where you belong until I say you can move. Clear?’
‘Clear.’
‘Clear, sir.’
Zake lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut. The pain in his leg was terrible. His right calf had completely seized up. The muscle was as hard as rock.
‘Straighten your leg as much as you can,’ advised Drena quietly. ‘Lift up your toes. You need to stretch the cramp out of the muscle.’
‘Oh, listen up, everyone,’ the guard called out. ‘Dr Drena’s giving out free medical advice!’
‘Give it a rest, Craston.’
The voice was unexpected. Heads turned to look at the other Federation trooper, Dort, who was leaning against the rear bulkhead. Dort removed her black helmet to reveal a young, hard-looking woman with short blonde hair.
Craston frowned. ‘What d’you mean, “Give it a rest”?’
The blonde trooper pushed herself off the bulkhead and walked casually towards her partner. She rested a gloved hand on his arm. ‘They’re beaten.’
‘Scum like this need reminding every so often, Dort. You know how it goes.’
‘I know. But even scum like this know when they’re beaten. Stop wasting your breath on them.’
Craston curled his lip and sniffed. The impetus had been taken out of his goading, but it was clear that he didn’t like being pulled up in front of the prisoners like this.
‘It’s a long, boring trip,’ Dort went on, before he could argue. ‘The real work will start when we reach the prison planet. So save your energy. Take five.’
Zake and Drena had been watching the exchange carefully. Emboldened by what he saw as the support of Trooper Dort, Zake said, ‘Yeah, Craston. Give us all a break.’
There was a small titter of nervous laughter from some of the other prisoners, but it was enough to enrage Craston. He unslung his weapon with a snarl and Zake cringed.
Melson was poised to strike. The distraction was a slight one, but Zake could tell Melson was determined to take his chance. The blaster rifle was within Melson’s reach. It was now or never.
An electric tension filled the pod, almost as if the whole cabin had become suffused with a wild static charge. And then, in the half second it took for everyone to realise that something had happened – that something had changed – the energy took on visible form and coalesced in a blinding white flash. When the glare had faded, four new men were standing at the far end of the pod walkway.
Craston turned sharply to gape at the new arrivals. ‘What the hell? Where did you lot come from?’
*
Avon took in the scene straightaway: a basic cargo pod, bare metal, converted with benches in the recesses for twenty men, and two guards standing over them on a central walkway. One guard, the female, was bringing a weapon up to open fire. Avon made sure he shot her first, dropping to a crouch to reduce his own target area and covering the top of his gun with his free hand to prevent the flash of its discharge from affecting his vision.
Blake’s own blaster howled and the second trooper spun backwards, a ragged wound burned in his chest by the energy bolt.
Gan spotted the camera lens on the far side of the pod, aimed his gun and blew it to pieces.
Three seconds since arrival. Three shots. Silence.
‘Gan, get the weapons,’ ordered Blake. He raised his teleport bracelet to his lips and opened a channel to the Liberator. ‘Down and safe. Two Federation guards killed. No other casualties. Pod secure.’
‘Understood,’ Cally’s voice came clearly through the transceiver. ‘Still matching course and speed. Good luck.’
Avon had already opened an access hatch on the pod’s main communications panel. He made one or two careful adjustments with a small electronic tool and there was a brief flash of sparks. ‘I’ve fused the comms unit and all the interior scanners. The transporter crew will be deaf and blind – at least as far as the pods are concerned. I can’t do any more without alerting them to the fact that it is deliberate sabotage rather than an electrical fault.’
‘That’s good enough,’ said Blake, satisfied.
‘Who are you?’ asked one of the prisoners in white-faced astonishment. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We’re with Blake,’ said Gan, stooping to pick up one of the fallen Federation guns. ‘It’s all right.’
The prisoners simply stared back.
‘We want to help,’ Gan said quietly, and then, a little more grandly, ‘We’re setting you free.’
‘You’re mad,’ said another of the prisoners eventually. She clambered stiffly out of the pit and stood on the walkway, holding out a hand to shake. ‘But you’re very welcome. My name’s Drena. Is there anything we can do to help?’
‘You could look after this,’ said Gan, handing her Craston’s gun. Drena took the weapon carefully, almost reluctantly.
Another prisoner climbed up onto the walkway. He was shorter, squatter, unshaven with a heavy moustache. ‘I’ll take that, if you like,’ he suggested, easing the gun quickly but neatly out of Drena’s hand. ‘She doesn’t like guns.’
‘And you do?’ asked Blake.
‘Well I know how to use one, at least. The name’s Melson. I was a data guard in the Administration Residence Block before I blotted my copybook.’ He checked the weapon over, including the loading mechanism and charge pack. He looked like he knew what he was doing.
‘All right, Melson. You could be useful,’ Blake said.
‘Better than that, I hope. We were just about to snatch a gun off one of these chumps when you arrived.’
Blake raised an eyebrow. ‘Then we saved you the trouble. But well done anyway.’
‘We can save the congratulations for later,’ Avon said. He was still surveying the rest of the pod carefully, weapon levelled, expecting trouble. He gave one of the corpses a nudge with his boot. ‘Were these the only guards in this pod?
‘Yes,’ replied Drena. ‘We’re all Delta-Grade prisoners in here. Not much needed in the way of security. They didn’t think we constituted enough of a threat.’
‘The Federation thought you were enough of a threat to deport you to a penal planet,’ said Blake.
‘Well, quite,’ said Drena. More prisoners were standing up, slowly, fearfully, and some were climbing out onto the metal walkways and stretching. ‘None of us are what you’d call fighters, though.’
‘We can be if we want to be,’ Melson said, raising the rifle.
‘If you have to be,’ agreed Blake.
‘I want to fight,’ said a much younger prisoner, his hair shaved down to a fuzz on his skull. His eyes were wide and green. ‘I’ve had enough of these bastards. I don’t want to die. I want to fight and I want to be free.’
‘This is Zake,’ said Drena. ‘My brother. We’ll help in any way we can.’
&nbs
p; ‘Right,’ said Blake. ‘Drena, Melson, Zake. You’re with us now. The rest can wait here.’
‘Zake needs to stay with me,’ Drena said.
‘Don’t worry, he can stick with me,’ Melson told her. ‘I’ll look after him.’
‘I’m not sure –’
‘It’s okay,’ said Zake. He smiled at his sister. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Blake, it may not be long before the crew realise the camera has been shot out,’ Avon said. ‘They may want to investigate if they suspect it is anything more than a malfunction. I suggest we move quickly.’
Blake nodded. ‘Vila, open the airlock to the next pod.’ He turned back to Melson. ‘Any idea what we can expect in there?’
‘More of the same, I would imagine. Delta Grades, possibly a few Betas, but not many...’
‘I’m not interested in grades,’ Blake said. ‘Only people. What about guards?’
‘Another two, like in here.’
‘All right, but we might need some back-up. We’ll move forward to the next pod when Vila’s got the airlock open.’
‘Wait a second,’ said Drena. She crouched down next to the female trooper, Dort, where she lay on the gangway. Drena felt the side of the woman’s throat with her fingers. ‘This one’s still alive!’
Avon immediately drew his gun, but Blake waved him off. ‘How badly is she hurt?’
Drena did her best to inspect the wound. The tough micromesh of the uniform had been burned clean through and a mass of scorched flesh glistened beneath. ‘It’s difficult to tell. She’s breathing, just. And there’s a pulse – although it’s quite faint. She may not have long.’
‘Are you medically trained?’
‘Well I was a neurosurgeon, once, but...’
‘Then stay here with her. Gan will help – he’s got a medical kit with him. We’ll go forward. Vila, how’s that airlock coming along?’
Vila glanced up from the hatchway, where he was working with a selection of his favourite lockpicking tools. ‘It’s a Federation prison pod,’ he said. ‘High security, double-locked electro tumbler isolated by a recognition pad keyed to the guards’ handprints. It’s tricky!’
‘Just get on with it,’ Blake said.
EIGHT
Cally returned to the Liberator flight deck with a frown and slumped into the forward seats.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jenna said. She was reviewing the flight systems from her control station.
‘Is this us, now?’ Cally asked. She made a throwaway gesture at the empty flight deck.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why are we still here on the Liberator? For our own safety? I was a guerrilla fighter in the Auron resistance, Jenna. I was a warrior.’
‘Was?’
‘Am,’ Cally corrected herself.
Jenna smiled ruefully. ‘I never doubt it. But I for one don’t mind missing out on the violence. I’ve seen enough of that.’
The sombre note in Jenna’s last words made Cally look up at her. ‘You still have your skills as a pilot, though. You are needed on the Liberator.’
‘Kind of you to say, Cally, but none of us have to stay. Blake wouldn’t stop you if you really wanted to leave.’
‘I don’t want to leave. I want to fight the Federation. I just don’t want to be stuck here while we do it.’
‘Cally, the kind of life we lead now means that any one of us could die the next day. That means every hour is precious. Don’t begrudge any of them. Not a single one.’
Cally folded her arms and frowned deeply. ‘I don’t.’
*
On the flight deck of the York, Zola was worried by a number of indicators on the ship’s status.
‘What’s the matter now?’ Norton asked irritably as he noticed her double-checking the computer readouts.
‘There’s a mass anomaly,’ she reported. ‘It’s tiny but it’s set off the warning indicators.’
Norton gave the instruments a cursory glance. ‘It’s a glitch. Ignore it.’
‘It could be serious.’
‘One of the guards probably chucked a prisoner out of the airlock,’ said Garran with a chuckle.
‘No, the mass has increased,’ argued Zola. ‘And that’s not all. The camera in Pod Four has gone down.’
‘All right, but it’s hardly enough for a red alert, is it? Like I said, the guards are probably cracking some heads together in there and don’t want a camera witness.’
‘But don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence?’
‘Not really. A faulty mass sensor and a decommissioned camera on an old cargo hauler like this? Big deal. Forget it. We can’t stop for every little warning light that flashes on your control panel, Zola.’
‘But it might affect the slingshot.’
‘It won’t,’ Garran said firmly. ‘The course is laid in. We’re on our way.’
Norton sat back happily. ‘Space City here we come...’
Zola said, ‘I really think it’s a mistake to ignore this.’
‘You’re just trying to think of things to stop us going to Space City,’ Norton said accusingly. ‘It’s too late now, Zola. You might as well relax and enjoy it.’
‘But the prisoners...’
‘Sod the prisoners. They’re just cargo. We’re ferrying them to K5, and that’s it. They’re safe. Never mind the cameras or the mass detectors. Those things are all very well for top-of-the-line Federation cruisers, but this is nothing more than a reconditioned cargo trawler. There’s nowhere the prisoners can go now – except K5.’
Zola bit her lip. ‘I hope you’re right.’
‘We are.’ Norton closed the conversation, turning his seat back around to face the control boards. He activated the navigation sensors and said, ‘Now let’s do this.’
‘With you there.’ Garran’s hands moved expertly across the flight controls. ‘Vector nine – mark. Gravitation field – mark. Time Distort Six in… Ten. Nine. Eight…’
*
‘INFORMATION.’ Zen’s voice filled the Liberator flight deck.
Something made Jenna’s stomach flip. She slid back into the pilot’s flight seat. ‘What is it, Zen?’
‘SENSORS DETECT ACCELERATED TIME DISTORTION IN THE FEDERATION VESSEL.’
Jenna double-checked the readings, although she knew there was no point. Zen was never wrong. The York was getting ready to jump. The engines were powering up to accelerate into the planet’s gravity field. They were going to attempt the slingshot.
Jenna glanced around the flight deck but there was no sign of Cally. She opened a communications channel on the control panel in front of her. ‘Blake, this is Jenna. The Federation ship is about to accelerate.’
‘TIME DISTORTION INCREASING,’ reported Zen calmly.
Blake’s voice crackled urgently over the intercom. ‘The slingshot?’
‘They’re going for it.’
A moment’s pause. ‘Options?’ Blake sounded as calm as Zen. Jenna struggled to match the clear-headed thinking that was now required.
‘TIME DISTORT IN SIX SECONDS,’ intoned Zen.
‘Abort,’ Jenna suggested.
‘Not an option,’ Blake replied instantly. ‘We’re breaking into the second pod now.’
‘FIVE SECONDS.’
‘But we can’t match the acceleration and stay in teleport range,’ Jenna argued.
‘Think of something else, Jenna!’
‘FOUR SECONDS.’
In a rush, Jenna said, ‘Disable the ship. Short-range neutron blast.’ She felt her pulse racing. The idea was fraught with risk. The Liberator’s weapons were powerful enough to blow the Federation ship into atoms. Where the hell was Cally? ‘Blake, I don’t know if it’s possible but –’
Blake’s voice rang out across the flight deck: ‘You must try, Jenna! Don’t let this ship make the jump, whatever happens!’
‘THREE SECONDS.’
‘Whatever happens might include you being vaporised, Blake!’ Jenna snapped. ‘Zen – charge
the neutron blasters.’
‘TWO SECONDS.’
Jenna’s hands closed on the controls for the Liberator’s powerful neutron weapons. ‘Range… one spatial. Narrow beam, minimum power. Focusing on the ship’s main thruster.’
‘ONE SECOND.’
*
Blake closed his eyes. He had the wrist with his teleport bracelet raised to his lips, his other hand gripping it so tightly that his knuckles were bone-white.
There was a distant crackling noise and a hard thump from somewhere up ahead. The reverberations passed right through the pods until Blake felt the deck plates shuddering beneath his feet.
Avon stepped up to Blake. ‘By what ridiculously small margin of error have we just escaped with our lives?’ he hissed.
Blake took a deep breath. ‘I really wouldn’t like to say.’
‘The Liberator opened fire on this ship!’ Avon said.
‘They were powering up for the slingshot,’ Blake explained quietly. ‘Jenna had to stop them. There was no other choice.’
‘We could have been blown to smoke and dust!’
‘Well, we weren’t.’
‘It was too much of a risk, Blake.’
‘I trust Jenna. She knows what she is doing.’
Avon’s teeth ground together. ‘It’s a good job someone does.’
‘Yes, isn’t it?’
‘Well,’ Avon said after a frosty pause, ‘a neutron blast to the main thruster can’t have gone unnoticed by the flight crew. We’ve lost the element of surprise.’
‘Not quite. They’ll be confused, uncertain…’
‘So what’s the plan?’
‘Same as before. Only faster.’ Blake turned to Vila. ‘Hurry up, Vila – we need to be in that next pod now!’
NINE
‘That was an energy blast,’ snapped Norton. There was disbelief in his voice, cut with fear. ‘Something shot at us!’
There were warning lights flashing on all consoles. ‘We’ve lost forward thrust,’ Garran said. ‘The main engines are completely offline.’ Ever the professional, his first priority was to ensure the immediate safety of the ship. Without commenting on what had caused the problem, he took all the measures necessary to minimise any further damage. ‘Cutting ion drive and rerouting auxiliary power…’
Blake's 7: Criminal Intent Page 4
